


15.07 Coda - Last Call

by Doc_3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15.07 Spoiler, Episode Tag, M/M, Spoilers thru 15.07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doc_3/pseuds/Doc_3
Summary: Episode tag to 15.07 Last Call.  A moment between Dean and Cas.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	15.07 Coda - Last Call

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in this fandom, first fic in 10 years. This scene hit me like a train and wouldn't leave me alone. Un-beta'd, errors are my own.

“Sam, I found the Codex in the library storage you were - oh.” Cas rounded the doorway into the kitchen and stopped speaking when he saw Dean opening the freezer.

“Sorry. Not Sam,” Dean broke into the silence, turning to fully face Cas. He was hurting everywhere, but particularly his jaw from a hard hit from Lee. If he wanted to eat anything more than applesauce for a few days he needed to heal up.

“I see.”

Dean nodded and put the bag of peas to his face. 

“You’re hurt.” Cas took a half step towards him and then pulled up short. His instinct would forever be to move towards Dean Winchester, learning to move back would be a hard lesson.

“‘S’nothing. I took one to the face.” Dean leaned back against the counter and raised his beer for a long swallow, expecting Cas to walk out. He knew they needed to talk. Knew it down in his bones that he’d have to take the first step. 

He also knew he couldn’t take that step today. 

“Sam was heading to the weapon lockup with Eileen last I saw them. Make sure you walk real loud and stomp some before you barge in. Otherwise you might get an eyeful.” Dean punctuated that statement with a lewd gesture, mainly because he knew it would piss Cas off. Hopefully he would storm out. Dean just _couldn’t_ right now.

Cas rolled his eyes and huffed a little, but didn’t move. He just stood there for a moment, then with a breath took a few more steps towards Dean.

“Where were you?”

“Where were _you_?” 

Cas blew out a short breath in annoyance and moved another step closer, now he was within an arm’s reach.

“I was working a case”. _Trying to find peace and failing._

“Fancy that. _I_ was working a case.” _Considering jumping in bed with an old flame._

“You took more than a hit to the face.” Up close Cas could see that Dean was holding his left side tight and he had a nasty cut trailing down to his right temple. His lip was scabbed over and his knuckles looked raw. When he lifted his hand for a swallow of beer, Cas could see rope burns on Dean’s wrist. 

“Yeah well you should see the other guys. Well, guy. Other one was a thing. No idea what, some sort of mutated djinn as best I could tell. They’re dead, I’m not. It’s a win.”

Cas wouldn’t have to know Dean down to his soul to hear the hurt in his voice, and something on this case put it there. In another time, maybe he would have asked, pushed even. Another Dean and another Cas would have sat down at the table over beers Cas couldn’t really taste and he would hear the story from beginning to end. They weren’t them anymore.

“Let me heal you.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Punctuated by a short jerk of Dean’s head. 

“Dean, you are not fine and we don’t have time for your pride. We need to make a move immediately on Chuck if he’s weak. You need to be ready.” 

“Oh I’m ready, I won’t be the one slowing us down. I’ll do my part.”

Cas recognized the bait instantly. Dean wanted to hide behind deflection, pissing Cas off so he walked out and forgot Dean was hurt. His grace wasn’t what it was, but he could heal some ribs, and a likely concussion. 

“Don’t be a fool.”

Dean just toasted him with his beer and took another swallow, still expecting Cas to turn around and walk out. 

Cas instead took the final step closer, and put both of his hands to Dean’s face.

In his surprise, Dean almost fumbled his beer. He barely had time to set it on the counter and grab the edge with his hand before it hit. 

He’d never get used to this, if he lived to be a thousand years old. 

It was like a white hot poker right between the eyes, a knife-edge of pure pleasure-pain. He could feel the healing grace course through him like molten steel, and then the pain of sinew and bone knitting together, followed by pleasure so pure his knees buckled. 

Dean tried to ask Sam one time if he felt this same meteorite of power every time Cas healed one of Sammy’s wounds, but he didn’t know how to describe it. Asking your brother if he got hard enough to pound nails when his best friend healed him wasn’t something he had the vocabulary for. 

He hung on with one hand gripping the counter so tight he expected to dent the stainless steel. The other was squeezing Cas’ wrist hard enough to grind the bones together. 

_“Fuck,”_ he breathed out. Somewhere under the rushing tide in his ears he thought he heard Cas moan, _“Dean”._

Cas normally eased back on the grace to give the person being healed a moment to regain their footing. This time Dean felt a brief surge and then it abruptly ended. He opened his eyes to see Cas sway on his feet.

“Cas?” Dean grabbed him by his lapels, not exactly sure who was supposed to hold the other upright.

Cas shook off his hands and took a quick step back. He was pale and his eyes were glassy and bright, bright blue. 

“I’m fine. It’s fine. You’re healed.”

“What was that?” Dean barked out the question, masking his concern in anger and accusation.

“My power is weakened. I think it’s tied to Chuck’s weakened state, I have a few theories.”

“Theories? We can’t go up against God with theories, Cas.”

And there they were. The intimacy of moments before was gone. In its place only hurt and anger remained.

“I’ll find Sam,” was all Cas said. He looked weary but steadier on his feet than a few minutes ago. He turned to go.

“Wait. Cas… “ Dean still didn’t have the words. 

Cas stopped in the doorway but didn’t turn. 

“Just. Thanks, man.” _For this. For Sam. For everything before and everything to come._

Cas still didn’t turn, but Dean saw his short nod before he disappeared around the corner in a flap of his coat.

Dean sagged back against the cold edge of the countertop, and finished off his beer, tossing the no longer needed peas towards the trash. Rubbing his chest, he spared a moment to wish his heart had healed along with his busted lip, before wandering out to find out their next move. 

_The End_


End file.
